Chapter 17

One would think that the antiseptic odors of the hospital wouldn't bother Jonah. But they would be wrong. Somewhere in the plastic bag near the exam table were his possessions, including his ruined shirt. They should have just thrown the thing away. He dropped his arm over his eyes. The fluorescent lights of the emergency room bay the paramedics had landed him in buzzed like a hive of bees. The white curtain that provided privacy—closed. At least everyone couldn't see him brood. Small favors and all that.

He hated being on the other side of the stethoscope. His old coworker and smart-aleck friend Dr. Walden had cleaned the knife wound and stitched him up. The man had lectured him to be more careful, told him to lie still for a bit, and left him waiting for the discharge papers.

Yeah, right. Lie here and do nothing. No way. Jonah rolled to his side and pushed up to a seated position. The paper on the bed crinkled beneath him. He reached for the scrubs shirt the nurse had left on the small table and winced. The world spun. He gripped the edge of the bed.

"Whoa there, cowboy." Noelle strode in. "Let me help."

He wanted to assure her that he was perfectly capable of dressing himself, but in truth, he needed her. "Thanks."

Her eyebrow arched. "No complaining?"

"Not today." The crease in her forehead had him hurrying to explain. "I'm fine, and if you don't believe me, you can ask Dr. Walden. But my side hurts anytime I move, so I'd appreciate it if you'd hand me that shirt." He pointed to the light-green top.

She studied him a moment, then nodded. "I can do one better." Noelle slipped the shirt over his head and held it out for him to slide his arms in, then pulled it down over his torso.

"I feel like a two-year-old," he grumbled.

"Well, sometimes you act like one." She flashed him a cheesy smile.

"Everyone decent?" Decia popped her head around the white curtain.

"And what if I had said no?" Jonah shook his head and sighed. So much for privacy. "I'm good." He shifted to stand and Noelle held out her hand. He considered ignoring her, but common sense took over. He'd been horizontal for a while, and between that and the blood loss, he had to be careful with dizziness.

Noelle waited for him to find his balance. "Good?"

"Yup." He turned toward Decia. "What's going on?"

"Think you can snag us a conference room? Matt's working on your Richard Nelson lead from the tattoo shop, but Alana and Juliette are here. We'd like to hear directly from you what happened today."

"I'll go work my magic." He took a couple of tentative steps, confirming he wouldn't fall flat on his face.

"More like throw your weight around," Noelle teased.

"Har har, very funny." He moved past Decia and headed out to find an old coworker.

Five minutes and a promise to visit the hospital staff more often later, he ushered the women into a conference room on the next floor up and flipped on the light.

"Have a seat." He chose a seat near the door and lowered himself onto a cushy office chair.

Alana and Juliette sat across from him, Decia at the head of the table, and Noelle beside him.

"This is perfect. Thanks, Doc." Decia set her notebook in front of her. "I've read the report, but give us a quick rundown of the events."

Noelle spoke before he'd collected his thoughts. "As you know, we had brunch at the Southern Café near the Colonial Park Cemetery." She explained the attack and her subsequent pursuit of the assailant.

He sat stunned as she told them about chasing the attacker through the graves.

"Then he jumped on the trolley. The passengers thought it was part of the act. The driver slammed on the brakes, which made the attacker stumble and lose his sunglasses." Noelle's breath hitched. "His eyes. I'd seen those eyes before."

"Where?" Even though Decia had already heard Noelle's account of what'd happened, she asked anyway.

"My serial killer." Noelle shoved her trembling hands under the table.

Jonah reached over and clasped her fingers, hoping his touch encouraged her to continue.

Noelle shook her head. "But it's not possible."

"How so?" Decia leaned in.

Jonah glanced at Alana and Juliette, who remained silent, worry etched on their faces.

"The age is all wrong. This guy is in his late twenties, early thirties. The man who abducted me would be in his late fifties if not early sixties by now. There's no way it's the same person."

"A son, maybe?" Alana offered.

Decia rubbed her temples. "I'm not saying it is, but what if it is a father-son connection like we considered?"

"Congressman Clifton Sanford and his son Lincoln?" Juliette asked.

"Maybe." Noelle rubbed her eyes. "But I don't think so. Sanford's eyes are blue, but not the same. And Lincoln's were brown."

"Contacts?" Alana rested her elbows on the table.

"Anything is possible." Noelle sighed.

Decia narrowed her gaze at an invisible spot on the table. "The aide, Royce Dwight, has blue eyes. They had this strange, almost icy look to them."

"What?" Noelle jerked her attention to her detective friend.

The description wasn't lost on Jonah. She'd described the eyes that haunted her to him. He squeezed her hand.

"They weren't your normal blue. That's why it made an impression," Decia said.

"He didn't make eye contact with me. Always seemed to have his head down." Noelle's voice quivered. "I never saw them."

Jonah's gut twisted at the implication. "Alana, call Raven and get her looking into Royce Dwight. And while she's at it, into his father too."

"On it, Doc. I'll catch up with y'all later when I have answers." Alana had her phone to her ear as she strode from the room.

"Decia, I know you have an officer researching Royce and his dad, but we need to move on this." Jonah's heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

"I agree. I'll gladly accept Raven's help." Decia's cell rang. "What's up, Matt?" A pause. "Are you serious?" Another pause. "I'm on my way." She hung up. "Matt has the address for Richard Nelson along with a search warrant."

"How'd he secure that?" Jonah hadn't thought they had enough evidence to convince a judge.

"EGA has friends in high places." The detective smiled. "Since the man is missing and a possible link to a serial killer, they agreed."

Noelle stood. "I'm coming."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Decia's calm tone belied the worry stamped across her features.

Jonah glanced at Noelle, and it hit him. She'd opened the dam on her past, and if she ever wanted to recover from her personal nightmare, she had to see this through for her own sanity. After all she'd endured, she deserved to be there. "I'll go with her." He stared down Detective Slaton, determine to give Noelle what she needed.

"Fine. But, Doc, you stay right by my friend's side."

"There's no place I'd rather be." That was a lie. He'd rather be at Noelle's house waiting on the news instead of taking her to the possible home of the man who'd tortured her. But he'd be what she needed him to be: the person that stood beside her as she faced her biggest fear.

* * *

The birds chirping in the trees surrounding the old house that sat away from the county road set Noelle's nerves on edge. Hip resting on the hood of her car, she wrapped her arms around her waist and waited on Matt and two other officers to search Richard Nelson's modest single-story house. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but not from the heat. What if Nelson was her serial killer?

She should have stayed home.

No. She had to come.

"Are you doing okay?" Jonah's concerned tone snapped her from her thoughts.

"I'm not sure if I want it to be Nelson or not."

"What do you mean?"

"If it's him and they find him, I'll come face-to-face with the man who took my life. Not in the literal sense, but in many ways just the same."

Jonah settled next to her. "You'll handle it."

She flicked her gaze at him. "How do you know that?"

"Because you're one of the strongest women I know. And I refuse to let you do this by yourself." He shrugged.

"Thanks," she whispered, unable to make her voice work. The man had kept her grounded since they'd arrived.

Matt had given her an update that the house appeared abandoned, and so far, they hadn't found Nelson.

Jonah scooted closer and slid his arm around her.

She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. "What's taking so long?"

"Matt's doing a thorough search of the house, then moving out from there to the small shed and building beyond. Give him time."

Matt strode their way with a sour expression on his face. "Doc. Noelle."

She straightened and shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. "What'd you find?"

"The house is clear. I'd say with the dust an inch thick and the petrified food in the kitchen, no one has lived in that house for quite a while. Years, in fact." Matt rubbed the back of his neck.

"Then why the grim look?" Jonah moved to Noelle's side as if to protect her from the bad news.

"It's what we found in the outbuilding." Matt's gaze landed on Noelle. "I want Noelle to come see it."

Jonah stepped forward, fists on his hips, staring at Matt. "Not without a heads-up first."

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Jonah."

"Calm down, Doc. You know I wouldn't do that." Matt glared at him.

Jonah grumbled but shifted to the side.

"What is it that you want me to look at?" Her stomach twisted in knots at all the horrible possibilities her mind conjured up.

"We believe the outbuilding is Nelson's ‘workshop.'" Matt used air quotes around the word.

"Richard Nelson is the serial killer?" She swallowed the bile crawling up her throat.

Matt nodded. "It's my opinion that he is."

Her eyes darted along the tree line, and her breaths came in pants. Was he watching? Would he finish what he'd started fifteen years ago?

Jonah laced his fingers with hers. "Calm down before you hyperventilate. Matt and I won't let anything happen to you."

She mentally kicked herself for her reaction. "Where is he?"

Matt's gaze dropped to the ground, then up to her. "We haven't found him yet." He held up a hand to stop Jonah from speaking. "He's not in prison. We've questioned his friends. At least, the few we know about. It's like he vanished."

"Detective Williams." An officer called from the front porch. "I have something you need to see."

Matt motioned for them to follow. "Come on. Let's see what Officer Taylor found, then I'll take you out back."

Noelle gripped Jonah's hand tighter as they trailed Matt. Jonah had broken down her walls and become her confidant. She hadn't told anyone the personal things she'd confessed to him. But with each step toward the house, she felt herself emotionally pulling away.

"What is it, Taylor?" Matt asked.

Officer Taylor waved them inside. "I found a photo tucked behind those books." With gloved hands, the man held the image for all three of them to see.

Jonah's head jerked up. "He has two sons."

"That's what it looks like." Matt yanked his phone from his pocket. "I'm on it. I'll ask Decia to investigate."

Noelle fell down the black hole of memories. The killer's muffled voice swam in her mind. Ice-blue eyes stared at her. His hot breath made her cringe. The sharp blade slid against her skin, sending fire ripping through her. She struggled to allow herself to stay in the moment and recall details.

A memory popped into her brain. "There was a kid. I saw him. Or rather, he saw me." She squeezed her eyes shut. The musty odor in the house swirled in her nose and mouth. "But this isn't where I was held."

"From the documents I read, they found the shed attached to an abandoned cabin where he kept you, but never the person responsible."

"What else do you have to show me?" A shiver ran down Noelle's spine. She wanted out of the house but was unsure what came next.

"There's an outbuilding set approximately twenty-five yards away from the main residence." Matt pinched his lips together and scratched his jaw. "It appears similar to the place where he held you."

"You can't be serious!" Jonah narrowed his gaze. "Matt. You're asking too much."

Tears blurred her vision. No one had ever really stood up for her like Jonah. The man treated her better than anyone had in her life. Including her family. "Jonah, it's okay. If it solves multiple cold cases, then I have to do this."

He spun and cupped her cheek. "I don't care what Matt says. If it gets to be too much, say so, and I'll take you away from here."

Words refused to form. His protective streak had stolen her ability to speak, so she nodded.

"The outbuilding is over here." Matt motioned for them to follow.

A shed the size of a one-car garage sat near the tree line. The roof required repairs, and several sections of siding hung by one end. The building had seen better days. More evidence that Nelson hadn't lived here in a very long time.

Matt opened the door and stopped. "Noelle, I know it's a lot."

"You think?" Jonah muttered under his breath.

She placed a hand on Jonah's forearm to reassure him she'd be okay. "No. I get it. I'll be fine." She hoped. Studying documents and pictures was a far cry from visiting in person.

"Before you go in, I need to warn you about what we discovered in there." Matt struggled to meet her gaze. "There's a chair and a bed. But it's the spots on the floor that are the most disturbing."

She stiffened. Could she stay detached and not relive every moment of horror?

God, I need You. I can't do it without You.

Noelle swallowed. "Let me see it."

The door opened, and she and Jonah stepped inside. Dust covered every surface, the only light the duty flashlights supplied by the officers. She rubbed her nose, attempting to prevent a sneeze. A chair sat in the middle of the room, and a bed not far away. Ropes littered the floor around the minimal furniture.

Noelle accepted a flashlight and shone it around the room. The beam landed on dark brown spots of various sizes, staining the floor.

Her heart pounded, and a whimper escaped.

"Noelle?" Jonah's hand warmed her lower back.

She shrugged off his touch. The hurt in his eyes gutted her, but the contact was more than she could handle and maintain her sanity.

With one last visual pass around the room, she darted out the door. Hand over her mouth, she hurried toward the bushes near the house.

The memories flew around in her mind like a swarm of gnats. Hands on her knees, she gasped for air.

Jonah crouched next to her but didn't make physical contact. "What can I do?"

After several minutes, she drew in a long breath. "Nothing. It caught me off guard. I'm okay now."

"I kinda doubt that, but I'll trust you."

Leave it to Jonah to speak the truth. She straightened. "Where's Matt?"

"Standing about ten feet away, looking guilty."

The corner of her mouth hitched. "Poor guy."

Jonah snorted.

"Seriously. Even I didn't think I'd have that kind of reaction." Noelle shoved her hands in her pockets. "Let's go talk with him."

Jonah joined her as they strode toward the detective.

Matt grimaced. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, Matt. You did the right thing." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I can say without a doubt that the room setup and methods are identical."

"That's what we thought, but we wanted to make sure." Matt blew out a long breath. "Now for the million-dollar question. Where's Richard Nelson? And who is his son?"

"As for the where part, you've checked all the possibilities you thought of. But what if he's dead?" Jonah swept his hand in an arc. "There's a lot of property."

"You think someone killed him and buried him out here?" Matt's eyes widened.

"Anything's possible. No one has seen him in nine years." Jonah shrugged. "Got a better idea?"

"Not really." Matt pulled his phone from his tactical pants. "I'll get the dogs."

Noelle refused to get her hopes up. Not that she wished death upon anyone, but the thought of never worrying about her serial killer again brought tears to her eyes. She ambled to her car and sat on the hood, forcing the memories to fade.

Jonah boosted himself next to her. "Do you want to stay or go home?"

"Stay. I need this. I have to know." She stared off at the wooded area behind the house. "Jonah, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

She shook her head. "I meant I don't think there can be an us. At least, not more than a friendship. After what happened out there, I've realized I'm more messed up than I thought. You deserve so much more than I can give."

"I disagree." He held up a hand to stop her. "A discussion for a later time."

An argument sat on the tip of her tongue, but she'd keep it to herself—for now.

Four hours later, the cadaver dog found a body buried on the property near the woods.

Was it her serial killer? And if so, who had tried to kill her and Jonah?